She's the One
by badskin
Summary: My take on what should have happened during/after Bombshells. What was going on inside of House's head, what was in his heart and what the consequences of his relapse would be.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first attempt in years to write a fanfic again, so yes, bear with me.

It's been several months since Bombshells was aired and will be a month since House, M.D Season 7 have ended but after all these months the effects of the shellshock is still haunting me. This is my own take of what should have happened during/afteron the bombings. It's supposed to be a one-shot but I guess I am in a manic mode when I was writing this so it ended up with more than 2,000 words so I guess I'll have it as a multichapter then.

And **I do not own House, M.D. and the character's; FOX/NBC, Shore & Co. can own them forever.**

I will just how I want it to be :))

Cheers!

~ M

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><p><strong>House: <strong>Imaging shows enhancing masses across multiple lobes on Cuddy's lungs...

**Foreman: **That's what kidney cancer looks like when it metastasizes

**House: **She's dead...

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><p>Nothing's wrong with her, it's always how women are, always over-reacting on things. But then I still don't have the courage to even check up on her. I'm screwed-up I know, but I care for her so much. Care is too much to say how I feel for her. It's just me. I am screwed-up emotionally and physically, I must be the most screwed-up person in the world. I am happy we're together but deep inside there's still doubt's and questions about all of these. About us, about my own feelings and emotions, I really couldn't show how I feel, couldn't get to say it. I can just do things to prove to her that what I feel is true and real. Maybe I'm just afraid and scared of getting hurt. The future always looked bleak to me, and the past haunts me, and the scars inside me seem to still haven't healed. Damn. I should be there for her, but what am I doing? Here at Foreman's trying to pass time by playing video games. And then my cellphone rings…<p>

_I woke up strapped to a bed, covered in my own stinking vomit, the need to pee so, bad it's hurting my loins.  
>I can't even move any part of my body. Oh yes, I can, the only thing I can move is my head. Where am I? Damn it. Am I back in Mayfield? I feel the edges of the straps restraining me to the bed and as I struggle to free from it, they bit into the skin of my wrists and ankles. I must really be back at Mayfield. Everything is hurting, my head spinning, my stomach and my right leg. I tried hard to remember what happened that brought me back here, to a Psychiatric Hospital it really seems… but I've been clean haven't I? I have been for almost two years now, so what the hell am I even doing here? The room starts to spin; it's green walls as if eating me up. I start to scream at the top of my lungs, struggling to get free from these torturing restraints, but to no avail. I fell asleep, still haven't figured out what am I doing here, everything is such a blur right now. <em>

_When I awoke again, not knowing how many hours had passed, I am still confused and thinking more deeply, it all came back to me now. Everything came flooding right back at my mind, making my head hurt more. Making my whole body hurt more, and shooting pangs of pain to my leg, and my heart. That terrible phone call from Wilson, how I left right away from Foreman's house when I heard the dreadful news. Cuddy is dying. Lisa Cuddy might be dead right now! And where am I? In a lunatic's hospital strapped helplessly while my girlfriend is there with maybe months, weeks to live. How can anyone tell? Not me. I can just tell what your sickness is, what your disease is. I have saved people's lives by answering the puzzles of their symptoms, I have prevented their death's by the clues and by giving the right answer. But now, there's no puzzles, no mysteries. So I'm helpless as can be. I went back to my house, I needed something to mask away the pain I have felt. The hallucinations, they were the most terrible things. I was crazy, maybe I still am and screwed-up, and fucked. So I needed a Valium, then I could go to her, but what should I say? Feel sorry for her? No. She's a strong woman, and I loved her for it. Pretend to care? But I do care! Say I love her? Of course I do. But I am not good at all these. They say I don't have some touch of empathy within me. I do. It's just hard for me to show it. Cuddy needed some reassurance, support and care right now, things which are mostly alien to me. I hated dealing with patients, that's what my team are there for. I hated showing my feelings, I hated emotions most of all. I hated dealing with humanity, But I love her, and I showed it to her, but it wasn't enough. It was lust at first but I was blind, and I was insensitive, yes. I needed to step up, and man up... But first let me just take one Valium to calm my nerves and some Demerol to ease the pain in my leg. Yes to mask this pain I am feeling, emotionally and physically. I need to be with her now. I need a Valium... or three. There, that should do it. Swallowed the first three and I waited for the pills to take effect, but after ten minutes my hands are still shaking so bad I can't even button up this new shirt I have changed onto. So I popped a couple more. I'd be damned if I was going to let her see me like this. I needed to let her see that everything is just alright, that although I did so many bad things to her before I needed to let her know, I will be with her until the end. But I am a coward. I needed pills to make me mask the cowardice I have deep inside. To hide the pain away. To feel nothing, I needed pills to get through this all. I sat down on the bed, and thought about the words I should say to her, but then I could feel the tears coming, this is not the physical pain I have known in years. This is the kind of pain I really dreaded feeling. The emotional pain that hits me right through the core. **"If you take the pill, you don't deserve her, If you secretly take the pill, you don't deserve anyone." **My conscience speaks to me again, taunting me, downing me. Vicodin kept me going through the years. But all the Vicodin I have are gone. All I have are mild pain-killers and anti-depressants that I never even touched once. Aspirin was enough, add some liquor, like brandy or tequila then I'm okay. I remembered I have a secret Demerol stash. I hid it under my porno's. Damn the Valium, anyway; it wasn't helping at all. I cursed myself. I admit to defeat that I'm a big coward of a man. Pills and drugs are my strength. I went to my stash of Ativan, Xanax, Librium, Stelazine, Ambien, my leg hurts but there's no more Hydrocodone around here, time for some Demerol. Surely inside one or more of these bottles resided the calm and courage I needed to face her. I spread them out on the bed, and shook out pills from each and downed all five at once. I sat up in bed, but twenty minutes later, I still didn't feel anything, although for the life of me I couldn't really seem to button this shirt up. I looked at the mirror and saw that I looked like hell. Unkempt hair, slightly glazed eyes, shirt half buttoned. I eyed all the bottles spread out on the bed again. Surely another dose or two couldn't hurt. Besides, I drowned myself with Vicodin before and can still manage to solve what was wrong with the patients and function myself properly. I need this just to focus my meandering thoughts and reassure Cuddy. I would finally go to her and reassure her, tell her I love her and that I will always be with her from then on. But not yet, I owed her more than collected, I owed her serene. Yes, I am a coward I say again and again, that's why I am taking all these drugs, but she needed me and I needed this to get through her. In my own twisted, sick mind, it is wrong, but I want to be right._

_In frantic search of serenity, I swallowed the next ten pills with water. I should have something in my stomach to dissolve all these. I am secretly suicidal ever since. I am not afraid of death, I have defied it. And when I finally got together with Cuddy, I found a reason to be living, to be able to feel happiness that I also deserve the one that I deprived myself. I have told her before that I would choose her over saving people's lives, that is how much she means to me. Because she is that much important to me, I loved her and she is everything I have ever wanted. I am not doing this to escape anything, death is the last thing I want, I still have to live for her, show her how I truly feel, and in the last few moments we will have… she needed me. I love her, it was simple as that. The genius cranky doctor fell in love and would exchange his smart brain for a woman. Yes, you turn stupid once you fall in love. I tossed back the next big handful of pills, there was certainly nothing suicidal about it. I'd simply forgotten about the last dose, and finally I was starting to feel twinges of serenity, the calm and courage that I desperately need. There was warmth in my toes, a pleasant humming in my ears. I could almost see her smiling face, smiling back at me, I could almost feel her, her kiss, her warm embrace, I wanted to be next to her, and feel her again. I love everything about her, she's smart, intelligent, strong-headed and I would be a a fool if I say she didn't have a great body that I have drooled for in years. And she made me happy, with the lonely life I have, those little things she do makes me smile most of the times. I was smiling sheepishly and went back to reality and when I started to put away the bottle of water, the ceiling and floor suddenly tilted at odd angles, and the next thing I knew I was flat on the cold tile floor of my kitchen. The cold, smooth tile felt good against my cheeks. Thoughts of her face, her smile, her touch and all the happiness she gave me went swimming in my thoughts. It dawned on me as I lay there that I was really happy, nothing hurts, thinking about her makes me happy and I feel no pain, and I could see her beside me. I knew there was something important I was supposed to remember, but for the life of me I couldn't think what that thing was. All I know is I am happy here with thoughts of Cuddy. All that really mattered was the here and now: the cool kiss of the tiled floor, the soothing thoughts of Cuddy in my mind. I closed my eyes and let sleep wash over me until I hear my cellphone ringing again, jolting me awake. It kept ringing, and I tried to get up but I couldn't even remember where I put my cane, a sharp shooting pain coursing through my leg. So I crawled on my hands and knees across the kitchen floor onto the living room. I noticed when I was getting my phone; my hands were still shaking violently._

_ "Hello?" I mumbled. I couldn't quite understand what the caller was saying but I recognized the voice quickly. It was Wilson, checking up on me, asking to know where I am and that I needed to be with Cuddy right away, she needs me. And I remember that I should really be going to her. I told him I'm on my way and that I will be with her as soon as I finish dressing up. Wilson said it came out sounding like one long slur of vowels without any consonant. _

_"House, where are you?" He asked me, and for some reason, I found it quite hilarious that I burst out laughing until I couldn't stop. I laughed so hard that tears coursed down my face. When I raised my hands to wipe it away I remembered all the other times in the past that tears were not as funny. "Shut up!" I crackled through my cellphone. Then I threw it as far away from me as possible, so hard that I think I have broken it. That struck me as funny for a reason too. So I started laughing hysterically again, laughing until I sobbed, but not minding the tears._

And that apparently is how the paramedics got called. All I can remember is I crawled my way back into my bedroom again and started taking a handful of pills again, but a double handful this time, because I am finally starting to feel its effect, and it felt pretty damned good. I said to myself I can go to Cuddy now, and I can be tough and be the most supportive man she ever knew and I knew I was starting to leave the room until I woke up, dizzy and confused at these padded green walls, my stomach, and right leg hurting like hell.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2, now up! Comments, reviews and reads are very welcome :))

Thank you!

~ M

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><p><strong><em>When you get to where you wanna go <em>**  
><strong><em> And you know the things you wanna know <em>**  
><strong><em> You're smiling...<em>**

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><p>A door that was hidden beneath the padded walls opened, and a large man in white coat started to walk towards me. I was expecting Nolan. After all, he was my psychiatrist back then. The man stepped up to me, a large file and pen in his hands, barking questions at me, his hair all gray and so was his beard. Did I know who am I? Where I am? Who the president of the United States is? When is my birthday? At this point I stopped him abruptly and said I really needed to pee and that this nonsense should stop right away. I could give him the names of all the cabinet members or all the Government positions in White House if he can just let me do my thing.<p>

He sucked on his pen and studied the file.

"No, we can't undo your restraints just yet," he said. "We have you down as actively suicidal, they pumped your stomach at the emergency room in Princeton Plainsboro and you were unconscious for hours."

"You think it was a suicide attempt?" I asked back at him.

"If I was trying to kill myself, I'd take a lot more than just a few handfuls of pills. I'd take whole bottles, dozens of them! And I'd wash it all down with tequila, or brandy. I was nowhere near enough pills and I was just trying to calm my nerves and right now, is not the damned right time to kill myself you understand?"

Dr. Graybeard scribbled more at his notes; certainly nothing I said convinced him that I wasn't really trying to kill myself.

He cocked his head and stared at me, "Are you willing to admit that it was a suicide attempt?"

I took a deep breath, but I am getting angrier by the minute. Angry at this old, gray-bearded doctor, who keeps me restrained in this bed, inside this padded walls. Angry at me for screwing things up and making myself slip. What was I thinking last night? I raised my voice.

"Look here, Graybeard! I am a doctor myself and I know what I am doing, I am an addict, okay? That is what I can admit! I had a slip and I relapsed and I overdosed but I was clean for almost a year and I admit it was an error of judgment but trying to kill myself? No, no! Not certainly at this time, my girlfriend needs me! You see she's…." I heard my voice trailing off.

"Then I have no other option but to order a fourteen-day hold for you." He said. "You'll have to stay here locked for now. Maybe a couple of days, and if we see any improvement, you can be transferred over the inpatient unit. We'll have to wait and see."

He dashed off some more notes and a nurse just entered the padded room, Dr. Graybeard handed the chart to her as she stood behind the doctor.

"Make sure he gets some Haldol right away," he commanded. "And Thorazine PRN." He turned around and walked out the door, the young nurse scrambling behind him.

I stared at the place where the door had been. It's now a seamless expanse of quilted green. The next I heard was several clicks, the unmistakable chorus of lock and key. Instinctively, I started trashing sideways. I tried to wriggle; I squirmed, squeezed and wrenched myself free, but to no avail. The air was growing increasingly thin, and I am catching out of breath. I think I'm going into a full blown panic attack, my stomach and right leg hurting, pinching pain, shooting sharp tingles. Ironically, my bladder burst and came to rescue. I can't think about anything else—except, perversely, running streams and gushing fountains and mighty, thunderous waterfalls. Just give it up and let go, my body demanded. But my common sense resisted and my pride. I'm not gonna wet this bed. But my body just wanted to pee. I tried shouting as loudly as I could, the way I did when I was detoxing and was locked in Mayfield. If I am really in Mayfield, then I'm doing it again. "Nurse!" and thrashed my body again.

"Damn you all to hell!" I shouted. I took a deep breath, and then let my muscles go. I surrender, I said to myself. My urine erupted in rhythmic spurts, pulsing strong contractions that steadily eases to a warm, steady steam, and then into an endless trickle before it finally stopped. I looked down, and saw that I was soaked all the way from my waist to toes, the bed sopping wet. I feel asleep to the tune of my urine tinkling from the bed to the floor, thinking about Cuddy and how might she have been now, and regretting all the time I have wasted to be with her, welcoming the pain I am feeling all over my body, thinking I should really be punished and that I deserve all this pain...

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><p>"I'm so sorry about everything, about House…" James said apologetically as she looked down on Lisa's tear-sodden face.<p>

"It's okay. I knew that sooner or later he would relapse, but I didn't expect to be because of me, he was doing fine. I guess he will always be just an addict, and although he loves me, he cannot do it without the drugs, to be there for me. He always hid behind the drugs, the sarcasm, pushing people away. He can really never step up for me…" her voice breaking. James gave him a soft pat on the shoulder as she sobbed more.

Wilson called the paramedics the night before after House hung up on him and rushed to the hospital. He was angry and mad at House for overdosing, and he was sad for Cuddy. He was unconscious for hours and he could do nothing when the doctor's admitted him back to Mayfield, and how they have filed him as suicidal. Wilson was as confused, why he did it when it's this time that Cuddy needed him the most, and he also lost all hope for him.

"I'm ready to go for prepping," Lisa said, drying the tears from her face.

Once she found out that she already is on Stage IV of Kidney Cancer, she decided to have a Partial Nephrectomy. Survival rate at her stage might be a good 4-5 years, and removing her one kidney might just make the cancerous cells come back, but for now, she is adamant to at least get better, for Rachel, her daughter, and for the life of her ahead, may it be short-lived. She wants to take the days ahead of her not for granted, unlike what she did before and she wanted to start anew and she had been hoping, wishing that House shows up, to even annoy her or even kid with her before but he never showed up, instead he had slipped back to drugs, relapsed, and overdosed.

Right, Lisa thought. An addict is just an addict, nothing else. They love their drugs more than anything else. She pushed back anymore tears that will flow, as she smiled a sad smile to James, as he was walking out the door to prepare all the arrangements for her surgery.


	3. Chapter 3

I have always wanted to explore the backstory for how House & Cuddy had been back when they were at UMich. So yes, I will be using it as Cuddy's dream sequences in the story :)

Thank you for reading!

~ M

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><p><em>Absorbed in reading her notes, Lisa almost jumped in her chair when the telephone shattered the silence of the early evening. Answering it, she was surprised to hear Greg House's voice.<em>

_"Hi, it's me Greg. I'm sorry for calling just now after we hung out at the party…" he apologized. "I was just busy with reports and stuff, and actually I am starting on this thesis in Endocrinology class and I'm asking if you might want to help me since were in the same class and go out to dinner tonight," he lied about the thesis but he really wanted to ask her out._

_"Hey, it's nice to hear from you again, but I'm in the middle of studying for an exam and I can't spare the time to get ready," she said truthfully but with regret, since she really liked him, although they've only known each other for only two weeks now, after his sarcastic remarks when they first had an encounter at the university bookstore._

_"Well, a smarty pants like you? You could ace that..." he insisted. He didn't want to be brash but he wanted to see her, he was really interested in her, so he braved himself, "Well then, I'll just have to bring some beer and pizza at your place so I can have a study partner for the night," he quipped, not taking no for an answer. He liked her; she was immensely smart and full of ambition and not the kind of woman to be bullied or intimidated but can be charming as well. She was the anti-thesis of a "yes man". The kind of woman House has always liked; strong-headed, and ambition-driven._

_"You never looked like the kind of guy who would prefer a 'study partner'" she said with a laugh. "But really I need to—"_

_"No buts," he said lightly. Why the reluctance? The trouble was it was so easy for him to read her, even at the sound of her voice, and he couldn't resist the temptation to tease, enjoying the response from her._

_"Look, I won't be interrupting you… well maybe I would be bugging you and asking you stuff but really you wouldn't be bothered tonight and—"_

_"Alright." She cut him off, but a silly smile turned from her lips, as she unconsciously looked at her ragged jeans and over-sized sweat shirt, and pulled the rubber band from her pony-tail._

_"What do you like on yours?" he asked, grinning to himself._

_"Anything but without anchovies and green peppers." She replied._

_"Okay, got it. Be there in an hour, address? I only have your phone number." Greg asked, sounding to be not too excited._

_After she told him where she lived, she was smiling sheepishly as she hung up the phone. Lisa hurried to her bedroom, shed her homey clothes and put on a deep blue silk blouse with matching tapered pants. She brushed her hair and freshened her makeup. She was rather annoyed at the loss of time it had cost her to get ready and at the thought that with this interruption she would have studied more because she really wanted to ace the exam the two days after. But deep inside she was forced to admit that a part of her was anxious to see him again, since the Endocrinology class she audited, is on Friday, and it was only Tuesday. Although she would have agreed to go out; she didn't want him here. But then she could really be forward most of the times, especially to him._

_Fifteen minutes after she'd hung up the phone, she was busy reading notes and making them and she was deeply engrossed in it, that she couldn't believe an hour had already passed when the door bell buzzed._

_She crossed the apartment into the living room and opened the door. The man filling the door frame, dressed in casual clothes, his blue eyes smiling back at her, a grin on his face. It caught her off guard for the third time. Her heart constricted strangely as she greeted him._

_"Come on in," she invited. "Did you have any trouble finding the place?" she groaned inwardly. Ugh. How banal could I get, she thought._

_"Not a bit," Greg answered. "In fact I think I drove by around this area on my way to the city library when I first enrolled for med study._

_"Here, let me have that," she said. Taking the pizza box he had balance on one of his hand, a bottle of red wine from the other as she led him through her kitchen._

_"And I thought you'd be bringing some beers,"_

_"Do you really think I'm a beer guy?" he said with a laugh. _

_"I can't believe this," Greg said looking around the room, "I thought I'm the only one who decorated around my desk, and it's a nice desk you have there, mahogany, I presume?"_

_"Yes, but it's all cluttered tonight."_

_"True." He conceded with a grin. "But at least you have a corner here where you can concentrate most, and study."_

_"Um, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll just get some plates for the pizza and glasses for the wine."_

_"I'll help," Greg offered. Seeing in her own home, he began to relate to her and perceive how Lisa Cuddy is. The room expressed two sides of what he suspected was a multi-faceted personality—a large part of it dedicated to her work and study, and a corner reserved to what labeled as opulent, and tasteful comfort. Meaning, she is serious with what she do but she also knows how to have fun. He was also disarmed by the casual clothes she was wearing that revealed her slender curvaciousness. Lisa Cuddy was really beautiful. She was not conventionally pretty but she is the kind who will make men's head turn, and his attraction to her growing by the minute._

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><p>Lisa opened her eyes slowly, as she tried to adjust to the dim lit surrounding. <em>Where am I? <em> She wanted to ask out loud, but the throbbing pain in her side reminded her of the surgery she had. There was a droplet of tear in her eye, as she remembered what she dreamed of, she was dreaming of her past with House… and she felt her heart getting heavy again.

"Hey, you're up now," a woman's voice said. It was Julia, she recognized. Julia stroked her cheek and put some strands of hair away from her face.

Lisa turned to her slowly, her eyes now well adjusted to the surrounding.

"The surgery went well." Julia said with a slight smile. "And I'll just call James to say you're awake now. Do you feel any more pain?"

_I hurt everywhere. _I wanted to say, "It's okay, I can manage the morphine drip." Was what she managed to say, Julia turned to call Wilson on her cellphone.

_I will be okay… of course I everything's gonna be alright now. _I kept repeating in my mind as I closed my eyes once again. After a few minutes, James came into the room.

"Hi. Hope you're feeling a lot better now,"

"I am, and cut it to the real deal Wilson," She said slowly, forcing herself a smile. James and Julia smile back, they were glad she's still being optimistic.

"Okay, here's the deal; we already had your left kidney removed, where the cancerous cells are, but there are already nodes on your lungs, so in the next few weeks, you will still be on observation and we still have to do some tests and I personally recommend starting you on Sutent, because you said you didn't want to have chemotherapy.."

"Yes, that will be great. Thanks Wilson, I really appreciate all you've done." She said smiling. James smiled back, but with a pang of sadness in his heart, he really cared for his two friends, her and House and he's so sad at what's happened to them both.


	4. Chapter 4

House & Cuddy; their past, and present are always intertwined. But their future is really looking grim... There will be darker days ahead so buckle up :)

cheers before tears!

~ M

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><p>I woke to a light glaring straight in my eyes.<p>

"Wake up!" Scolded a voice somewhere behind the light. "Now look what you did. Now was that nice?" A blurry outline of a heavyset woman came into my view. She was gesturing with a penlight to the dripping sheet.

"Not nice, but necessary," I said. "Since you got me all locked up and tied, what the hell you suppose I would do?"

Then she whipped the sheet off the bed in one quick, motion. The tail end of it slapped me right in the face.

"Hey fat lady! Watch what you're doing or I'll make you clean another sea of pee," I retorted. "Or better yet, just take off these restraints so I won't be messing up again."

"That's not my job," the nurse replied. "I'm just supposed to give you meds and clean up your mess," she added, a look of disgust in her plump face. Next thing I knew, she had already jabbed a needle in my arm.

"Don't you get it still?" I said as a warm, woozy feeling began to flood through my veins. "I never meant to kill myself. Aren't you all so dumb to see what's suicidal and what's not—" But before I could even finish the word, I had drifted off into a strange, heavy sleep that felt so much like drowning…

When I awoke next, it was Dr. Graybeard again poking a pen in my shoulder.

"So, now are you willing to admit that you killed yourself?" he asked me.

"All right Graybeard. I admit it. I was trying to kill myself," I said with sarcasm. "Now can I get out of these straps?"

I could see a fleeting smile that crossed his face. _What a dumbass, _I thought. He then pulled a large set of keys from his pocket, fiddled with them for a moment then matched one to each of my cuffs. I have never heard a more melodious sound than four successive clicks that heralded my release. I rubbed my wrist and my right leg which started to throb again.

"Now since you have cooperated, your treatment can finally begin," he said. "We're going to transfer you to an inpatient unit. You'll meet others there with problems just like your own. I'm sure you will enjoy that."

Trying hard not to ridicule more this dumbass of a psych doctor, I contained myself, faking a big smile.

"If I do well on the inpatient unit, can we renegotiate the fourteen-day hold?"

Graybeard didn't smile back, but then he didn't frown either. "We'll see." Is all he said, and then he stuffed his pen inside his shirt pocket and walked away.

Fourteen days and then treatment? I thought. I really screwed everything up. I don't even know how Cuddy is. Maybe I should have just died from the overdose. Because with what I really did, the coward and screw up addict that I am, I don't know if I should also keep going...

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><p><em>Lisa's pulse raced as Greg followed her into the kitchen. The tall, big, blue-eyed man had been attractive to her even though he was really sarcastic, a show-off and blunt. To her eye, his creamy white sweater emphasized the width of the muscled shoulders, and his jeans clung to his strong thighs and well-formed calves.<em>

_Shape up, she told herself sternly, turning her back on him to open up the cupboard door. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted by his sex appeal. Besides, he is still a stranger to him. But who is she kidding; she let him into her home, and let him study with her. Really huh, she asked herself sarcastically._

_"I kept the pizza wrapped in my coat in the car. I hope it's hot enough to eat." Greg's voice was close to her ear as he reaches into the old-fashioned cupboard in the high-ceilinged room to take down the crystal pilsner glasses she'd been reaching for on the top shelf. The slight brushing of his chest against her shoulder brought a warm flush to her cheeks._

_"It should be just fine. I hate to have it so hot that I could blister my tongue," _

_Lisa said to cover the embarrassment. Maybe she'd made a mistake turning all her energy for her studies, but then again she's still in her first year and should be really doing well in everything but is she really this vulnerable to the slightest male touch? She once again blushed as she remembered the night they danced at the party two days ago. Moving quickly away from him, she then took a tray from a lower shelf and arranged napkins, forks, and then the glasses on it. Allowing Greg to carry them as she followed him out of the kitchen._

_"Okay, so I'm putting the pizza and winde on the coffee table, and I'm gonna go over to my desk, and you just sit over there, quietly and study, your uh- thing. Anyway, where's your book and notes?" She asked suspiciously._

_"Oh yes, I almost forgot. Gonna go get it now, in my car. Be back in a minute" He said with a grin._

_Lisa sat in front of her desk as she read notes once again, when she heard the front door open, not looking up, and heard his footsteps in the room, she was almost startled when put some notebooks in front of her._

_"Here it is, Ma'am" he said, smiling from ear to ear. Lisa was again, caught off-guard by how his face was just inches from hers, and that if she turned to him, she might just accidentally kiss him. She shrugged the thought, and composed herself, as hard as it was for her, with Greg leaning over her, still smiling._

_"Okay, mister, you can back up now, let me help you with your report, or whatever." She said as she stood up from the chair._

_"You see, Eisenhower gave me this thesis, which is entitled 'Communication through body odor'" He said to her, collecting the notebooks he dropped in her desk, as he sat in the couch, following her._

_Lisa took the two glasses and poured some wine, and got herself a slice of pizza. "What?"_

_Greg pretended to be writing notes, "Human condition is dominated by auditory and visual information, but in contrast animals use their smell to communicate—"_

_"Wait, so what you're trying to prove is, Humans can also communicate through smell?" She asked as she stopped halfway through the wine she was sipping._

_"Nailed it. The term was coined pheromone. It meant that when a chemical that, when emitted from one animal will deliver behavioral or physiological changes. Or that certain odors can tell a species if it's another's territory, or could stimulate rapid behavioral changes." He explained._

_"So basically you will be trying to prove that human's are also well-equipped to for broadcasting and transmitting such social chemical messages?" she asked, putting down her now empty glass, she straightened from her relaxed position and placed both feet on the floor._

_"Well, I really went to the right person haven't I?" he appraised her, as he also drank his first glass._

_"It is really possible, since humans respond to body-odour signals in a neuroendocrinological manner—"_

_"Yes, yes it is really plausible too," Greg said, reaching near her, and sniffing her, she was creeped out at what he did, but she can't deny she was almost scared for the exciting feelings his nearness gives._

_"Uh, what are you doing?" She asked, as he smelled her hair and her shoulders, she stayed still and tried to act cool._

_"You are ovulating." He said, and at that Lisa slapped his arms._

_"Shut up!"_

_Greg then sat back to his side of the couch, "I'm just kidding, but really. Thank you for helping me out." He said to her, his blue eyes boring into her._

_"As you have mentioned, ovulation" she said emphasizing the last word. "I also support your theory. It opens many possibilities for future study and application. For example, the active components of body odour could be used as a natural, alternative ways to control ovulation; as an aid in contraception."_

_Greg sat back, considering the lovely, intelligent woman before him, her angular face softened by the glow of the light. Her appraisal of herself by proving his theory was accurate. She knows her stuff, and she is driven and ambitious. He could see why men who would be attracted to her, expecting to fill her feminine role of bolstering their egos would be disappointed and would have a rough time figuring her out. _

_And yet not far beneath the cool competitive façade, he sensed a fiery, sensuous nature. A man would have to be her equal to earn her love… and Greg thinks' she's someone he would love to be with, yes, he thinks' she's the one…_


	5. Chapter 5

To anyone who reads this fic, all my apologies for not updating. I have been pre-occupied with watching new tv shows which were fluffy and smutty. It inspired me to add ~some on this story.

Again, thank you for reading! :")

~ M

* * *

><p>I was up all night, my head full of chattering and frightening thoughts. They still wouldn't allow me to have a single phone call. I don't even know if a day has passed, or two, but on my deduction it has been two days already. I want to know how Cuddy is doing. I know I screwed-up and I'm not avoiding the situation or whatsoever but I am in a big mess. So many thoughts in my head! I just kept walking around the hallway; I cannot even sleep a wink. So, yes I am back in Mayfield. In this loony bin and I don't even see a familiar, lunatic face. Not even the nurses. One of the therapists came in to my room and asked how long I have been an addict. I said I didn't have a drug problem, I have pain problems. This quad cane isn't helping either. It looks dreadful as it is, and walking all night just made my leg hurt again. I got to get out of here. I told the therapist to mind her own business. I am not suicidal, why do they all have to think I am? All these stupid therapists think they all know a person's motives. Yes, my behavior had always been suicidal but I'm certainly not. And they have to realize I just had a full blown relapse. That's it. I overdosed, I fucked myself up, I wasn't there for Cuddy, and I blew all my chances. I hate my life and I hate who I am. Just then, I saw a big, familiar figure walking towards me in the dark, it was Nolan. I didn't know if I was going to be glad about seeing him or if I wanted to punch him for locking me up again. I must have been speechless until I hear him talk.<p>

"House." He said, with neither disdain nor recognition in his voice.

"You need to let me out of here, now." I replied, almost sounding desperate and pleading.

"You are on hold for fourteen days here, House. You are considered suicidal."

Just then, all my anger towards myself burst to him, I almost stood up to his face.

"How many times do I have to tell you people I am not fucking suicidal? I know I did too much but to hell with killing myself!" I shouted, my voice echoing along the darkened hallways.

"So you're not. You can talk to me in the morning—" Nolan answered with a calm demeanor.

"But I can't! Time is running out, I need to get out of here now!"

"House, look. Whatever it is you're going through, I can understand, but please, hear me out. You get some sleep, and in the morning you can have your phone call. Call whoever you want, but you're not getting out of here quickly. You know the rules right? And then I will look in to the fourteen day hold for you. Okay?"

"You don't know what I am going through! Yes you were right last time; Cuddy was what I wanted to be happy! So I went to seek my happiness but I screwed-up again! And this time there is nothing I can do to correct my mistake! You really need to help me or I'll really lose my mind!" I said, shouting, my voice again echoing throughout.

"House, please. It's two o'clock in the morning. I will help you, but your outburst won't let us get anywhere right now."

I sighed in surrender, looking down at the floor. Fuck this! And then looked at Nolan, and turned my back away from him and entered the room. Going to sit or lie down in the bed and wait till morning comes.

* * *

><p><em>Lisa turned down her book, and sipped some red wine. It was her second glass and her knees and elbows felt disjointed already. She stood up from her desk and joined Greg sitting in the couch, she cradled the glass in her hands as she sat down, looking at the dark red fluid, as if giving her the courage to talk more openly to him.<em>

_"I wanted to let you know that I really don't invite guys I've known at parties, I mean we barely know each other and you might think that I'm…" she took another swallow of her drink._

_"That you're a floozy? No, not at all." He made gestures with his hands, as if warding off thoughts._

_"I just don't want you to think that I'm easy or anything…"_

_Greg turned himself away. "I don't." he said carefully._

_"I'm trying to explain about myself. I'm not doing very well am I?" She tilted her head back restlessly and swallowed the rest of her wine._

_Greg looked at her, "Look its okay I wanted to get to know you better too, and we hardly know each other so I'm glad to really get to know you. "_

_"I'm pretty much of a loner. Nobody's very close to me. I feel alienated with my parents and I'm the only child. I hardly had any friends back in high school and in college."_

_Lisa leaned back on the couch, feeling her eyelids grow heavy._

_"Want another drink?" he asked._

_"Sure."_

_He then went forward to the coffee table, pouring both of them some more wine, then he went back to sit next to her._

_"Your drink"_

_"Oh. Thanks." She smiled at him, somewhat blearily._

_Greg drank his neat, with a practiced flip of the wrist. Then he set the empty glass down._

_"Tell me something interesting about yourself." She asked._

_He laughed a little. "Not much to tell."_

_"Sure there is. Your crankiness, for instance."_

_Greg looked up as if searching for words in the air._

_"Well, the last time our Professor in Endocrinology was lecturing, he was blabbering about endocrine tumors and how hormones affect it."_

_"And you corrected him"_

_He gave a short harsh laugh. "I am really impossible. I say what I want to say and most of the times people just annoys me."_

_"You are really impossible. But why the misanthropy?"_

_"Well. I really don't know, but growing up alone and having to live in different places when I was growing up didn't help much with my insight of society."_

_"Go on."_

_"My father was in the Marines, and we have been moving ever since I was a kid. We lived in Asia, Europe and I was always the odd one out. People saw me as the outsider so I didn't have many friends to hang out with."_

_"You know, you're really a nice guy. You're easy to like and you're too smart. It's just that people sometimes misinterpret your frankness as being rude and brash, and I can't figure out how much I'd like you if I get to know you more. Maybe I'd find out I didn't like you as much or, then again, maybe I'd like you a lot more." She waved a hand airily. "It doesn't matter. I'm just talking too much." Her eyes felt so heavy. She looked at the bottle of wine, it was almost half empty. No wonder._

_"What a mouth I've got," she murmured, half to herself._

_"It's a lovely mouth," Greg said softly in reply._

_She murmured something, and then tried to form her words carefully. "I think I'm a little sleepy now, So you can say no, If you want to…"_

_"No?"_

_"To come here and hold me as I sleep?"_

_"Lisa," he began, "I…" He went closer to her. She reached over and put her warm hand in his and squeezed it gently._

_"Do you mind if I fall asleep? I mean, I was almost up all night last night too," she said knowing she slurred some words but not caring. Amazing how bold alcohol could make a person. She edged toward him and even though she felt some reluctance, he put an arm on her shoulder._

_She felt dizzy, and it was quite disconcerting to be so close to him. She felt like this when they first danced together at the party they went to, but now that they were alone, she felt bolder than ever._

_"Would you kiss me?" she whispered. His head bent and she could feel his mouth on hers, feather light, hesitant._

_"I don't want to take advantage of you, and this is not what I came here for, I just wanted to spend some time with you…"_

_"I want to, and I like you."_

_At that, his arms tightened around her shoulders a little and when his lips began moving against hers, her thoughts began to spin along with the room. Then she felt his hand moving against her breast, lightly cupping its heaviness._

_She moaned, meeting his deep blue eyes, and for a heartbeat of time, she wondered if the naked desire she saw in his eyes was only wishful thinking. But the sensations were so wonderful, so full of utter pleasure, that she closed her eyes and let herself float on a cloud of indulgence. His lips, the male smell of his skin, the feel of his hand on her chest. A lovely ache curled in her belly. Her breath came shorter, in little gasps, and she could taste the wine in his breath._

_She wanted to let herself go; her body craved his closeness and her heart was beating fast like a drum. She didn't know that much about him, but she wanted to feel him, wanted to feel loved by him…_

Lisa woke up, her face beady with sweat; she looked at the wall clock just above the door in her hospital suite, then she pushed the button underneath her bed to get the nurse. She needed another sleeping pills and hoped that thoughts of House would not bug her mind, and mostly the past which keeps appearing in her dreams…


	6. Chapter 6

I want to personally thank IHeartHouseCuddy for bearing with me since the start :")

Again, thank you for reading!

~ M

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><p>I will get back on their past thru Cuddy's dreams just like in BOMBSHELLS, but for now let's get back to the present.<p>

* * *

><p>I walk down the street.<br>There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.  
>I fall in.<br>I am lost I am helpless.  
>It is't my fault.<br>It takes forever to find a way out.

-**Chapter 1: There's a hole in my sidewalk,**_ by Portia Nelson._

* * *

><p>There's a genuine part of me that doesn't want change. Change is inevitable but like people, change annoys me. Changes are all lies deep down inside. I have always believed nobody changes. When Cuddy and I first got together, I had my doubts. But she came to me that night; she saved me from destroying myself once again. She saved me from the addiction I have. In the back of my head, it was screaming. <em>You are no good for her. You can never be happy. She's too good to be true. <em>But she was there, and she made all the fantasies, the unrequited feelings I have even back then, she gave an answer for all of it. Logically, I know I have an innate worth, and although people can't see me as someone capable of having a relationship and that I will never be happy because of who I am, I know what's love. I wanted to be happy with her and that even though I am a bad person, I still have a heart. And Cuddy had my heart beating. But who am I kidding? I have changed through the years; I've changed in many ways, good or bad.

But Cuddy also made me change too. I was smiling more, I was kinder. She made me appreciate more the people around me. Kids really annoyed me even before, but her kid, Rachel. I cared for her. Her mother, who also annoys me, I saved her life. I was out of focus because I was scared I might not have saved her but I did. Everything I did, was to please Cuddy, I wanted to let her see I can be a better person. Before, I was satisfied with the mystery of the diseases of the patients, it kept me going, the puzzles satisfied me. Vicodin kept my pain at bay. I had Wilson which I can count on to. Cuddy was always there for me, but even before I always mistreated her, but when we got together I really wanted to be the right one for her. Still, I failed. I can't deal with my feelings, emotions, sometimes I really don't know what to do or say. I have tried to do the best I could, in my own, even perverse ways.

But now… I'm stuck. I'm trapped and I'm really, really scared.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Nolan asked, seated in front of me, cutting my deep thoughts.

"I… I don't know what to do."

"Tell me what you have done. What's beneath? What's the underlying motive behind what you did, that's what I want to know about." He asked.

When I started taking the pills, I wasn't thinking of suicide. I merely wanted to keep myself up just so I can manage to face her.

"I'm a monster inside," I said. "A big ugly monster. I've made so many bad decisions in my life and it's my entire fault."

It's true. I have always kept everyone at distance, even Wilson and mostly Cuddy. I was so scared of getting hurt, but now look what I've done. I have hurt her beyond repair and I am too helpless to go back. There is no going back. I can never, ever forgive myself if I lose her… I wouldn't know what to do if I really did.

* * *

><p>Lisa felt a hand in her arms, and she opened her eyes slowly, there was already sunlight coming in the room. She opened her eyes slowly and looked beside her bed, she saw Rachel's big beady eyes in front of her. She smiled and was near tears seeing her baby; she sat up to face her.<p>

"Mommy," she called to her with a big smile on her face. Julia, her sister went near her bed.

"She really misses you so I brought her here, is that okay?" Julia said in a soft voice.

Lisa just nodded with a smile, and turned to Rachel, reaching up to stroke some bangs away from her face.

"How is my baby doing?" She asked, stroking her cheek.

"I'm doing fine Mommy, I played with Auntie and Nana let me watch cartoons at home," she said and then getting a teddy bear from her lap.

"We miss you Mommy, me and teddy," Rachel said, putting the stuffed toy near her cheek, and letting it touch Lisa's face. "Teddy kissy mommy so she go home soon"

Lisa was fighting back tears, patting the teddy bear on the head.

"I'm sure Teddy and Rachel is behaving while Mommy's gone,"

"We are mommy, I read Teddy my Snow White stowy at night, look! I bought it!" Rachel said excitedly, jumping down from the chair. Julia helped her with her bag, and she scrambled to get the book.

"Okay, relax Rachel, we can get your book out." Julia said, helping her find it and finally she did and she crawled up in the chair again.

"Mommy, you want me to read Snow White?" She asked her mom.

Lisa let out a hearty laugh, even though Rachel still didn't know how to read, she liked to interpret the story by looking at the pictures.

"Of course you can, come sit with me, sweetie"

At that, Rachel climbs up from beside the bed and sat comfortably beside her.

"Be gentle with mommy sweetie, she still hurts from the sides," Julia worriedly said.

"I'm okay, thanks." Lisa assured her. She then puts her arms around Rachel's small frame keeping her close. She felt warm by having her near, and she really missed her.

Rachel then opened her story book; the page has the evil witch on it and showed it to her.

"This is the witch," she said pointing to the witch's picture.

"Oh~ she looks frightening!"

"…and she is holding an apple! She goes to Snow White's house and she has a big, red apple"

"What's she gonna do?" Lisa asked, as she watched Rachel beside her study the picture intently.

"She's got one teef! Not five, but one teef and she are so dirty," she continued. "And Snow White get scared by her."

"See?" she looked up at her, "See she's scary coz she only got one teef! She gave 'er an apple"

Rachel turned the page quickly, murmuring to herself. "And then see? She falls down because of the witch! She ate the apple and look!" She turned to the opposite page where Snow White was already fallen to the floor. Rachel continued.

"Poor Snow White! She eat that big red apple and the witch laughs and see her one teeth?" She said dramatically. "And then, her little friends helped,"

"The dwarfs?" Lisa asked, smiling to her.

"Yes. They help Snow White from the bad witch…" she then turned to the last page. "And then she was alive, look." Rachel said pointing to the picture of Snow White. "and the Prince save her."

"Yes, the Prince saved her." Lisa said, lost again in her own thoughts.

She thought he could heal him, make him happy and whole as he'd never been. But now she realized she was delusional and that she can never repair something that's already broken. Now she's the one needed to be healed but she can never be really healed now. It's far too much to go back.

_Her Prince saved her, and she lives happily ever after_. It was funny how she never believed in happy endings, but this time she wished she had a happy ending too. She drew Rachel closer to her and listened to her as she recited all the seven dwarfs' names, brushing off again the thoughts about House that kept plaguing her, in dreams and in wake. She wanted to forget it all, and she wanted to get away...


End file.
